T3: Love's Ending Before it's Begun
by SilverclawRose
Summary: UPDATED! The machines send back an unusual Terminator to kill John and protect the life of the girl who'd grow up to invent the machines...but can the T-800 save John in time, while convincing him that his innocent classmate must die? ENDED INCOMPLETE
1. Intro

Terminator 3: Evil for Good By SilverclawRose  
  
I'm so sorry I haven't updated in 5 months. For anyone who's stopped reading this fic, I don't blame you. For anyone who still is, I thank you. I promise I'll try my VERY best to update it at least 2 times a weekend, and as often as I can during the week. The 2nd chapter is up, it's short but I'll do the 3rd chapter tomorrow. I don't own Terminator. Actually I do, on VHS and DVD. But I supose if I told that to James Cameron he'd laugh at me, then sue me anyway. But I have no money, so it'd be pointless. Anyway. Don't steal my characters, nor my ideas, enjoy, and PLEASE.  
  
PLEASE.  
  
PLEASE.  
  
review. ^_^ Enjoy. Set after the second movie.  
  
BRWe can see a dark street, lightly littered with papers and the occasional ciarette butt, but not covered in rubish. All the squat houses are dark, exactly alike in the colorless moonlight. A soft wind tickles the tops of a few short pine trees, which rustle mournfully. Beyond that, not a sound.  
  
Or maybe there is.  
  
Blaring obvious on the grey street, one small window is lit, spilling yellow light through the tightly draw blinds. No one else in that house seems aware nor awake to reprimand the late-night person. We get a closer look.  
  
'Tis a girl.  
  
A young girl, rather plain and tired looking at her small desk, working feverently at some sort of contraption in her hands. Her eyes are aglow with the look of a hungry man about to be fed his first meal in weeks. Her fingers, we see, are prodding here, turning there, on a small machine of metal and plastic, that looks rather like a mutated, mauled remote. With a tiny exclimation of excitement, the girl stops. She seems to have finished her work, and looks at her masterpiece with motherly pride. The remote- shaped thing begins to emit small, whirring sounds. Her smile grows. She gingerly picks it up once more and points it towards a quiet fishtank, with two small fish swimming dully in circles. She presses a button.  
  
...  
  
Nothing explodes, that much is well and certain.  
  
Luckily for this girl, she did not build this remote to detonate or distroy her pet fish. Instead, the silent tank begins to sputter, and the long-dead fish tank filter gurgles back to life, startling the fish and stirring the stangant water. The girl no longer looks tired, in fact quite the opposite. She is alive and livid with happiness, having to cover her mouth to keep from shouting with joy. Finally, one of her inventions has worked! After hours of trial and errors, and a few minor explosions, and singed fingers, FINALLY one of her so-called cock-brained ideas has succeded! Success! Something...  
  
The fish tank stoped.  
  
The girl stared at the filter. She tried hitting the remote again, but nothing moved. The fish tank was silent once again, the long-dead filter returned to it's eternity of non working..ness.  
  
The girl couldn't help but sob out loud, nearly causing the man and women sleeping in the next room to nearily wake up from their pleasent dreams. But they were deep sleepers, and didn't notice their daughter quietly crying out her failure to the cold stars.  
  
This poor young, plain girl. Her life did seem a failure. Of course, at 13, life's little worries do seem like tradgies, don't they? But, having never been an adult before, this small scientific setback seemed like the end of the world to the girl. After all, ever since she could think straight, she'd been inventing all sorts of things. Yes, she had big plans. In her mind, she had all the technologly of the future, planned and catorgorized...if only she could build one that worked. Alas, her youth and lack of money and resources prevented her from achieving that nobel prize she longed for. And now that her universal appliance-remote protocol had failed, that left her with little hope for the future.  
  
If only she knew how wrong she was.  
  
We will step back now, and leave poor Emilee to her sorrows. For Emilee is her name. And because she has no friends, and her wisdom is far to advanced for her age. And being the articulate, proper little girl she is, I'm sure she would get rather upset at us for being so rude as to spy in on her midnight experiments. For now, let us leave.  
  
The street is still dark, and across town a boy sleeps, troubled by worse, much worse thoughts that failed universal-appliance remotes. Her sees the end of the world. Bodies...blown apart like paper, and screams of children ring in his ears. This poor boy has visions of metal cyborgs, deviod of emotion, pointing their high-powered lazers and guns at fleeting soldiers. He sees the robots crush small human-shaped skulls underfoot, and this boy hears guns and bombs and explosions in his ears every time he tries to sleep. Gigantic metal crafts hover over the ground, seeking out the human warriors and shooting them down like animals. But machines can't feel emotions, we know that. These things have no guilt for the human cries they cause, nor the blood they've spilled. They are the future of Earth.  
  
Or so they think.  
  
After a few more moments of painfully memories/premonitions, the boy sees something else in his dreams. This is more painful than the screams of the dying men. It is one silent figure...looking up at him with a face half human, half machine. But it's not like the others. No. In the red, metalic eyes of this machine, there is remorse.  
  
And the flames and heat englulf the figure, and a pained yell bursts from Johns mouth, jolting him into wakefulness. He is sitting up in bed now, drenched in cold sweat, and he is ashamed to see tear-filled eyes. But he is used to this, this boy John. He has a knowledge far beyond most grown men of worldly ways. He knows the future that could have been....  
  
And still can be. He lives with this knowledge, and tries to live a normal, 14 year old life, but in his spare time preactices military techniques in the desert with his ammo clad mother and a family of renegade mexicans.  
  
You, dear reader, can see why it would be hard for him to live a normal, 14 year old life. He doesn't like school. He can't talk to his friends. He can't go out in public, for you never kow around which corner the ememy could be lurking. Or so he was told.  
  
But now, like Emilee, we will leave John to his painful dreams, and he will fall asleep untill morning, just like every night. Little do these two, broken, misunderstood children know of how shaken their unstable worlds will get.  
  
If only they knew  
  
And the moon sets on these grey, quiet streets.  
  
The sun begins to rise. 


	2. Chapter One A Meeting with the Mother of...

PART ONE~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~  
  
The rest of the story will probably be written normally, unless I do a few in-between parts in the style of the intro. Enjoy the rest, I promise the plot will begin to REALLY thicken in the next part, but I'm super busy lately, so I'll do my best. But I promise I won't take as long to update next time, no where NEAR as long! -the managment  
  
John slammed his locker shut moodily. Who wouldn't be moody after another restless night, the 6th in a row? He was going to math class, and John wasn't looking foward to the detention he'd recieve for not handing in his homework. Again. It's not like he didn't try, he certainly did! More than most boys did! But he mother always put training before all else, including meals, holidays, friends, and homework. He had no motivation to do well in school, his mother usually threw out his report cards with the junk mail. John didn't really mind, but when he worked for a good grade it might have been nice if she'd praised him. Just once. What was the use? He'd never heard a kind word from his mother since the day he turned 6. Before then she'd been ok, almost motherly, in fact. But then she'd deemed him old enough to start working. The fate of the world rested on their shoulders alone, and she never let him forget it.  
  
"Hey John, what's up?" A tall blonde boy came up behind John. He had pale blue eyes hidden under messy bangs and a rather worn-out red cap. He was lanky and almost a foot taller than John, all elbows and knees. He'd hit his growth spurt a bit early, but all the other teenage boys in the school were quickly catching up.  
  
"Hey Andy. Not much. How was your weekend?" he asked offhandily. Andy rolled his eyes and began walking alongside John.  
  
"Oh, you know my parents. They put on this fake 'I love you, you love me' crap whenever I was around. And then every time I left the room they'd start at each other again. I mean, they'd be screaming at each other, and then when I came back they shut up real quick. Like they didn't want me to hear." John glanced at his friend. Andy's parents had split almost 2 years ago, after things had gotten ugly. There'd been a pretty bad incident with Andy's dad, when he came home drunk one night and knocked his mother to the ground in anger. When Andy had tried to stop him, he lashed out with a broken bottle. At his own son. Andy still had a large scar cutting down through his top lip. After that, his dad had left willingly, probably consumed with guilt. Lord knows he felt bad once he sobered up. He'd done everything he could to make up for it to his son and wife, but that bottle had cut more than Andy's face. Andy couldn't bring himself to forgive him, and so his dad had decided to bury the incident. It was 'the unspoken accident'. John clapped him on the shoulder affectionatly, to which Andy gave a small grin.  
  
"See you in lunch, John." He called from down the hall. John waved and turned into the math room.  
  
"Ahh!" A short girl exclaimed as the box she'd been carrying clattered to the floor. John had knocked into her with his shoulder, sending her sprawling to the floor.  
  
"Oh man, sorry about that." he said quickly. He helped pull the dishelved girl to her feet. "You ok?" he asked. She just gave a small nod, her eyes were rivited to the box on the floor. There were metalic pieces and gizmos all over the ground in pieces. Kneeling gently, she turned the box rightside up and looked inside, but whatever it had been now resembled a jigsaw puzzle. John cringed when he saw the mess. "God, I'm real sorry. Was it a science project or something? Oh man, I'll go with you to the teacher and tell him I broke it..." he offered, while bending down alongside the girl to help collect parts. She just shook her head saddly and clutched the box close.  
  
"No...it was just something of mine..." she said quietly. Her eyes got slightly misty.  
  
"I'd pay for it if you want, no problem." he said guiltily. She just shook her head again. "No, don't worry about it. It was my invention for the science fair, but it didn't work." she sighed and straightened up, pushing her mousy blonde hair out of her eyes. John followed suit, glancing at the girl.  
  
"Are you new? I don't think I've seen you here before.." The girl gave a small chuckle and pushed up her small glasses.  
  
"I guess you wouldn't have. No I've been comming here all year, and I was the same middle school as you last year. And the same elementary school. In fact, I live down the block from you. I don't get out much." she said with a small grin. John look surprised. He could have sworn he'd never seen her...but it wasn't like he was a real social person. He hardly ever saw Andy outside of school, his mom didn't allow it. But he would have noticed her at some point, wouldn't he? Shaking himself from his thoughts he held out his hand.  
  
"Wow...I can't believe we never met. I'm John." She shifted the weight of the box and shook his outstreched hand. "Emilee, nice to meet you. Don't be surprised, I'm pretty quiet in class." Somewhere down the hall a bell piereced through the loud buzz of talking kids. Emilee glanced up horrified. "Oh no, I'm gonna be late!" With a quick wave she dashed off down the hall and disapeered into the crowd. John was left there staring after her, hand still left hanging in the air. She had really nice green eyes...  
  
"Mr. Connor! Are you going to stand there all day?" A burly man in a small tie shouted at him from inside the classroom, startling him to run inside the classroom. There was something oddly familiar yet new about that girl... 


	3. Chapter Two The Machines send their Warr...

PART TWO~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*  
  
I'm so sorry I've forgotten this story...to any readers who wanted the next part, here it is. And I hate when people start fics and then stop them, so I'm going to try and update AT LEAST twice a week (probably Sat & Sun, when I have the most free time) and ANY chance I get during the week. I'm going to get through this story before the real Terminator 3 comes out....I hope. Anyway, my dearest appolgies for not updating...this is a short chapter, but I'll do the next one tomorrow. I'm tired and I gotta go to sleep.  
  
The wind, which had been silent only a moment earlier, suddenly began to howl and swirl through the empty parking lot. Dust was whipped in tigh circles, and bits of trash skittered across the pavememt. The sky became cloudy and thunder rumbled, but at 3am no one noticed. While the people of the neighborhood slept soundly, a bright flash of light lit up the street. Electrical charges began to jump from metal trashcans to metal mailboxes, increasing in volume until there was a huge ball of lightning. In a mighty flash the light went out, revealing a small girl, about the age of 7 or 8, standing silently. But rather than clothes, she had on what looked like a skin-tight suit of armor, from her neck to her toes and down her arms. The girl turned around with strange flexibility and ease in the armor, her long blonde hair caught in a breeze. Her bright green eye flashed red for a moment, before returning to normal. She'd found her target...6 houses down, 3rd bedroom to the left, 2nd floor. The human was sleeping in a bad against the far corner, with the window open a crack. All this the little girl had seen in an instant...without even looking. She took a delicate step forward towards the house, and in a flash of light disapeered.  
  
John, meanwhile, had been writing in his journal (he liked to write when he couldn't sleep) His mother thought writing was a waste of valuable training time, but John needed to get his thoughts out somehow. His mom wasn't exactly the easiest person to talk to. He glanced out his window as a huge clap of thunder resounded. Funny....the sky had been clear a moment ago...John threw his arms over his eyes as a huge flash of light pourred into his room. And as suddenly as it had occurred, it was gone. John peered out the window with greeen dots dancing before his eyes. He rubbed them hard and looked again. There'd been a girl there a moment ago, but she'd disapeered. John turned to the clock and groaned. 3Am, and school tomorrow. No wonder he was seeing things. Relcutanly he crawled into bed, his mind filled with confused thoughts. That light...the little girl...Emilee, who seemed so familiar somehow... 


End file.
